


fake

by montecarlos



Category: GP2 RPF
Genre: Childhood Friends, Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: He’s missed her - he’s missed his house, missed Indonesia - London is great and he’s enjoying living with Mitch but it’s not home. “So buah hatiku,” She says, watching him pick at his food. “When are you going to bring me a nice girl home? Or a nice boy perhaps?”





	fake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DamsInDistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamsInDistress/gifts).



> This monster thing is for the wonderful Chesca who basically is queen of Seantonio and I am her mere pawn. I am so so sorry that it is late, the boys just would not behave at all for me but I hope you like your belated birthday present. The timing is a bit strange in this fic - the boys have known each other since they were kids as opposed to when they were teenagers. Thanks to the squad for cheerleading me to the end. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

It had hurt when they split up. She never wanted it, she loved him. But he didn’t love her, not anymore - he’d fallen in love with someone else. She had cried, demanded to know if there was anyone else. He’d denied it - tried not to think of blue-green eyes, think of mussed brown hair that he’d pushed back a few times. He knew it wasn’t fair on her - to keep living this lie - he loved her, of course he did - but not in that way anymore. It hurt to hurt her in such a way and she screamed, she shouted, she begged for him to not do this. But he had to - he was tired of living a lie, of shoving his hands down his pants and calling out  _ his _ name instead of hers. She’d finally accepted it, her hand gently in his as they’d hugged close, as he had taken in the scent of her perfume, wished that he loved her.     
  
He tries to enjoy being single after that - tries to throw himself into enjoying his life as it is - he goes to the gym with Mitch every day, goes out for a jog to the park with Tom, has dinner with Pierre a few times. However, he still lingers in the background - his green eyes fixed on Sean, his plush lips pulled into a smile. Antonio tells him how sorry he is about him and Amirah, his hand ghosting over Sean’s hand. He’s trying to be the supportive best friend, but it doesn’t help. Sean tries to ignore the warmth curling over his thighs at the Italian’s touch, tries to ignore the blush rising over his cheeks. He knows he should push Antonio away, he knows he should try get over the Italian. It’s not until he’s in bed later that night, his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking about Antonio’s body against his own that he decides to go to Indonesia for a few weeks, to try clear his mind. He calls his mom in the morning, books his flight for a few days time.   
  
Sean knows what question his mother is going to ask him before he even sits down for dinner. He sighs heavily as his mother slides the plate of ayam bakar towards him with a smile on her face. He’s missed her - he’s missed his house, missed Indonesia - London is great and he’s enjoying living with Mitch but it’s not  _ home _ .    
  
“So buah hatiku,” She says, watching him pick at his food. “When are you going to bring me a nice girl home? Or a nice boy perhaps?”    
  
Sean worries his lip. He hadn’t ever told his mom about him breaking up with Amirah, hadn’t gotten around to mentioning her to his parents. They’d been dating for over a few months and she’d broached the subject to him, but he’d put it off, knowing that his mother would only want to meet her. He remains quiet, pulling pieces of the chicken away from the bone, smiling at the taste of his mother’s cooking.    
  
But she doesn’t drop the subject. “I know all the girls and boys are flocking around you, my handsome boy. Isn’t there anyone special right now?”   
  
Sean holds back the sigh, presses his hair back from his forehead. “Mom, I don’t want to talk about it, it’s difficult-”   
  
“Why? Do they not love you in return? Because you know, there’s my friend’s daughter who has just finished university and she-”   
  
Sean feels his heart sink at his mother’s words. He doesn’t want to be set up with his mom’s friend’s daughters - he knows that he can’t say that he’s just broken up with Amirah, he knows that his mother will be upset that he didn’t mention it. Before he can stop himself, the words pour from his mouth.    
  
“No, no, I just, we’ve just got together-” Sean finds himself saying. “We just started dating recently and-”   
  
“And you didn’t say anything, jani?” His mother’s brow furrows, her dark eyes boring into him. “It’s not like you to hide something like this from me,”   
  
“It’s a new relationship-” Sean says quickly, the lie slipping easily from his tongue. “We only started going out a few weeks ago, we liked each other for ages,”   
  
“And what is her name?” Her mother probes, eyes locked on her son.    
  
Sean bites his lip. He can’t say Amirah, he’s lied enough about her, to her. He can’t do that again - he can’t lead her on again for the sake of satisfying his mother. “He, it’s not a girl, mom,” He says. His mother doesn’t react, he came out as bisexual to his family a year ago - his father wasn’t pleased at first, but he learned to accept it. Sean panics for a moment, thinking over his male friends, thinking about who would make a good boyfriend as green eyes fill his vision. “It’s Antonio,”   
  
“Anth?” His mother barely reacts to the name.    
  
“Is that a problem?” Sean asks tentatively. “You like him, don’t you?”   
  
“Of course I do, jani. It does not surprise me that you and he are dating, you were close a few years ago, I remember when you used to chase each other around half naked and have water fights together-”   
  
Sean feels his cheeks stain pink. “Mom-”   
  
“So when is he coming over?” His mother asks, daintily beginning to eat her own food.    
  
“Mom, you’ve met Antonio a few hundred times-” Sean replies quickly. He’s trying not to think about Antonio coming over to Indonesia, having to pretend that they’re a couple - he knows that Antonio would probably go through with it for a couple of days, they’re close enough as it is - that was something that Amirah hated, hated when Sean would go and cuddle Antonio, go and press his nose against the soft, dark curls.    
  
“But not as your boyfriend, buah hatiku. Are you ashamed of me? Ashamed of the family?”    
  
“No, mom, it’s just that we haven’t been dating for very long and we-”    
  
“But it’s Antonio, Sean. We’ve known him since birth!” His mother argues. “You can bring him in a few weeks time, he can stay over,”   
  
“But Mom-” Sean says, panic rising over his chest. “We just got together, I don’t want to scare him-”   
  
“And I’ve known that boy since before he can walk. I want to see the boy who has made you happy, buah hatiku,”   
  
Sean can’t argue with that.    
  
  


* * *

  
  
He finds himself two weeks later, slumped on the couch in his and Mitch’s apartment, Antonio cuddled up next to him. It’s normal for them to be close like this - for Antonio to be curled up around him, their thighs rubbing against one another. Sean thinks about his upcoming trip back to Jakarta, thinks about his mother’s pleading glances.   
  
“Tonio?” He asks tentatively, watching the dark green eyes land on him. “Can I ask you something?”   
  
“Of course, Seanotelli,” Antonio says, the small smile that’s reserved for the Indonesian creeping up onto his face. Sean feels his heart shudder at that smile, almost stops himself from asking Antonio the question but he thinks of his mother, of how happy she would be and swallows his pride.    
  
“I want you to come to Jakarta with me,” He forces the words out, trying not to look into his best friend’s eyes.    
  
Antonio looks confused. “Why? Is your mom worried about me again?”   
  
“Not exactly-” Sean says, biting down on his lip. He can’t meet Antonio’s eyes, feels his heart slam against his ribcage. “I...it’s complicated-”   
  
“What’s wrong?” Antonio asks, confusion spreading over his features. “Has something happened?”   
  
Sean takes a deep breath, ignores how dry his mouth is. “I....my mom asked me about dating,”   
  
Antonio’s eyes widen a fraction. “You never told her about Amirah, did you?”   
  
Sean shakes his head slowly. “I...I need a favour,”   
  
“Anything for you, Seanotelli,” Antonio says, the small smile still on his face.    
  
“I…” The words seem to stick in his throat. “I...I kinda need you to be my boyfriend,”   
  
Antonio’s dark green eyes widen at Sean’s words. “W-What?” He stutters out, his face growing pale at his best friend’s words. “What do you mean?”   
  
“My mom...she asked if I was dating anyone and well, I didn’t want her setting me up with like Margaret’s daughter or whatever-” Sean says, feeling his cheeks burn bright red.    
  
“So you decided to pretend I was your boyfriend?” Antonio says, the smile still clinging to his lips. “I-I mean I’m flattered-”   
  
“She wants to meet you as my boyfriend,” Sean forces out. “You can say no, and you don’t have to have sex with me in front of my entire family or whatever, just a few kisses on the cheek and a bit of hand holding...just to get her off my back and then a few weeks later, I’ll pretend we broke up,”   
  
Antonio quirks an eyebrow. “Sounds like a plan,”    
  
“Wait, so you’ll do it?” Sean asks, eyes wide. “You’d do it for me?”   
  
“I’d do anything for you, Seanotelli. Besides, we’ve kissed before, it’s not that strange,” Antonio giggles and Sean feels his cheeks burn. He remembers the night that they had kissed, it was late at night - it was in Italy, the air was humid and Antonio’s hair was sticking to his forehead. Sean still had braces at the time and they were sitting on one of the grassy nooks, looking up at the sky.    
  
“Do you think we’ll ever race together?” Antonio had asked, his eyes shining in the dim light. Sean had looked up at the tall teenager, at the soft brown curls falling over his forehead.    
  
He doesn’t remember much of the conversation after that, but he remembers Antonio’s face moving closer, remembers gazing into deep green eyes, remembers how soft Antonio’s lips had felt against his own, how Antonio’s breath had ghosted against his mouth as he’d moaned. He remembers how good it had felt, remembers how right it had felt -    
  
“Sean?” Antonio’s voice pulls him out from his thoughts.    
  
Sean shakes his head as though to dispel his thoughts. “Sorry, I’m listening,”   
  
“I said you better order my plane ticket, Gelael,” Antonio says with a grin, lightly teasing the Indonesian as he settles back down against Sean, his head falling against his shoulder. “Better get into my best boyfriend act,” He continues, cuddling into the taller boy.   
  


* * *

  
  
Sean is nervous throughout the entire flight, he’s nervous on the drive to the house. He freezes as the familiar sight of his house comes into view, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Antonio can sense his fear as he smiles widely, patting Sean on the thigh. Sean tries to focus on the drive, focuses on the trees on either side of the road as he drives up the hill towards his house. He’s thankful that his mom isn’t outside waiting for him as he pulls into the drive and kills the engine.   
  
“Why are you nervous, Seanotelli?” Antonio asks, eyes searching Sean’s face. “You’re so strung out,”   
  
“I just...what if she doesn’t like you? What if she  _ knows _ ?” Sean says, his voice full of fear.   
  
Antonio is quiet as he captures Sean’s hand and squeezes it gently. “We’ll be okay,”    
  
Sean looks down at their entwined hands, feels how warm Antonio’s fingers are against his own, how perfectly the Italian’s hand folds into his own. “I guess you’re right,” He says, a smile curling over his lips as Antonio squeezes his hand again.    
  
“I’m always right Seanotelli,” Antonio says, grinning back.   
  
Antonio keeps hold of Sean’s hand all the way to the front door. It’s comforting in a way - he feels, like they’re supposed to hold hands. Antonio’s fingers are warm, his shoulder pressing against Sean’s as Sean’s mother opens the door and lights up at the pair standing on the doorstep. Sean feels Antonio drop his hand as he’s swept up into a hug by Mrs Gelael, lipstick smearing over his cheek as she coos at him in English. Sean watches the lopsided grin on Antonio’s face, trying not to miss how good the Italian’s hand felt in his.    
  
Sean’s mother doesn’t leave them alone for ages. She mothers Antonio mercilessly, asks if he’s been eating, if he wants anything. Antonio answers all of her questions politely, his hand threading with Sean’s so carelessly. Sean worries his lip as Antonio’s thumb swipes over his fingers, his smile wide and his tone polite towards Sean’s mother. Finally, she leads them up to the stairs to Sean’s bedroom.    
  
“I changed your sheets, darling,” His mom teases, pinching his cheeks softly, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “And you let me know if you need anything else,” She says, smiling before she leaves the room slowly. Sean doesn’t miss her leaving the door open.    
  
“Wow,” Antonio says, sighing heavily as he glances down at the bed. “Feels weird to be back here, I don’t think I slept in your bed since we were kids,”    
  
“You spent a fair few summers here,” Sean says, watching as Antonio pulls his hand away, flopping down onto Sean’s enormous bed, his arms linking between his head. “Don’t get too comfortable on there, Giovinazzi,”   
  
“Why? You gonna kick me out and make me sleep on the floor?” Antonio teases, his eyes shining.    
  
Sean feels the smile ghost on his face as he launches himself onto the bed, Antonio crying out with surprise as Sean’s hands clasp around his wrists. The laugh bounces from his lips as Sean’s other hand moves to poke at his side, making the Italian shift his hips up, a groan lifting from his lips. Sean knows that Antonio is ticklish - especially on his sides - and the Italian screams out, begging for Sean to stop as Sean’s hands work over his body, press him down into the sheets. He smiles, feeling the laughter bubble up as Antonio bucks against him, his own smile on his lips as he pleads for Sean to stop, hissing out in Italian.    
  
Sean stops for a moment, leaning in closer. “Do you give in?”   
  
Antonio’s hair has fallen against his forehead, it moves as he shakes his head. “I’ll never give in,”   
  
“Then I guess I’ll have to punish you further,” Sean teases, brown eyes locking with Antonio’s. However, Antonio doesn’t laugh. He continues to hold Sean’s gaze, looking up at the Indonesian. His eyes are soft, exploring. Sean finds himself drawn to the tiny gold flecks in the Italian’s eyes, to the small freckle on his left cheek.    
  
“What?” Sean asks slowly.    
  
“You have lipstick on your cheek,” Antonio says, his eyes ghosting over Sean’s face. He frees one of his hands and begins to rub the sticky substance away from Sean’s cheek with his finger, his eyes still locked on the brown ones of his best friend. Sean doesn’t say a word as Antonio’s warm fingers swipe over his face. Their eyes continue to lock together and Sean feels himself moving in, moving closer to Antonio, wanting nothing more than to capture his lips. Antonio senses the change too, exhales softly, the breath ghosting over Sean’s face. His finger dances over Sean’s cheek as their eyes close, breath moving over each other’s lips -    
  
“Sean!” His mother’s voice cuts through their heavy breathing and the moment is gone. Sean looks at Antonio with wide eyes before he scrambles away, tries to ignore the sudden tightness in his trousers. Antonio pushes a hand through his hair slowly, looking down at the floor. It felt good, it felt right to do that, he thinks. But the thought is soon gone, as is Sean, scrambling as far away from Antonio as he can go. Antonio looks down at the rumpled sheets and bites his lip. He wonders if he can do this, if he can pretend that he’s not in love with Sean.    
  


* * *

  
  
Dinner is a quiet affair in the Gelael household. Antonio loads up his plate, making a note to increase his runs when he gets home - he’s not one to insult Mrs Gelael and she would only make noise over how skinny he’s gotten. However, after the dishes have been cleared away and the family retire to the lounge for coffee, Antonio feels himself slumping against Sean, tiredness itching at the corners of his eyes. Sean hesitates for a moment, looking down at the skinny Italian resting against him before he carefully loops his arm around Antonio’s shoulder, announcing to everyone that they’re going to bed. The pair wordlessly climb the stairs slowly, Antonio moving with slow exaggerated movements as he shuffles under Sean’s arm. Sean takes off his clothes quickly, sliding underneath the thin sheets as he tries not to watch Antonio slowly removing his jeans, tiredness still evident on his face. When Antonio’s stripped down to his bright white boxers, he remains where he is, worrying his lip.    
  
“Are you sure it’s okay?” He asks, eyes shining in the light.    
  
“What?” Sean replies, brow furrowed.    
  
“Me sleeping in your bed, is that going to be weird?” Antonio presses, his lip still caught between his teeth.    
  
“Of course not, it will be just like old times,” Sean says, trying to reassure his best friend.    
  
Antonio still looks reluctant so Sean wordlessly throws back the sheets, eyes locked on Antonio’s. The Italian slowly moves over to the edge of the bed and sinks into the super soft mattress, pulling the covers over himself. Sean folds into him - like they used to when they were teenagers - their feet tangling together.    
  
“Why are you so afraid? This is just like we used to do,” Sean whispers, smiling in the dim light. He can make out Antonio’s features, can make out the soft dark curls against the pale forehead. Antonio doesn’t say anything, blinking rapidly as though to stay awake. Sean feels the smile brush against his lips as the Italian fights the urge to sleep.    
  
“Go to sleep, Tonio,” Sean says with fondness. The smile stays on his face as Antonio’s eyes fall shut again, his breath evening out. Sean stays where he is, looking down at the Italian, his arms slowly wrapping around his waist, their legs still twined together. They wake up in the morning, as close as they were before, Antonio wrapped up against Sean’s chest. Blush stains their cheeks as they spring apart, the thing they used to do as children no longer seems innocent when they’re both in flimsy boxer shorts, wrapped up against one another.    
  


* * *

  
  
The next few days seem to melt together as they spend time with Sean’s family, spend time over by the pool together. They both message Mitch - let him know they’re missing him but both receive a snapchat of him curled up in bed on Alex Lynn’s shirtless chest looking like the cat that got the cream. Holding hands with Antonio becomes a normal thing for Sean as does sleeping together, curled up in the same bed. Sean keeps waking up with a boner, has to keep having cold showers in the morning and trying not to moan out Antonio’s name against the cool tile of the bathroom as his hand finds his hardened dick. He tries to ignore the warmth that spreads over his chest as Antonio’s fingers rub over his own, as they trace circles over his warm skin. Antonio’s hand feels  _ right _ against his. Antonio’s body resting against his own feels  _ right _ . Antonio seems to be enjoying himself, looking more relaxed than Sean has ever seen him. He seems to like holding Sean’s hands, seems to like being close to him.    
  
Sean wants to tell him more than anything. He wants to tell Antonio what he truly feels, that there was a reason that he picked him over anyone else. He watches Antonio laugh, watches the sun set, making Antonio’s caramel coloured hair shine as he pushes it out of his eyes. He’s in love with Antonio - he realises, his mouth drying at the thought. He never told his family about Amirah, he never had another girlfriend before he because there’s always been somebody else hovering in the background. Sean squeezes Antonio’s hand tightly and the Italian squeezes back with a smile. His father excuses himself to fill up his cocktail glass as Antonio’s eyes slide to meet Sean’s. They’re glassy and playful from the alcohol.   
  
“What?” He says, a smile playing on his lips.    
  
“Nothing,” Sean says. “I’m just happy,”   
  
“You’re a nerd,” Antonio mutters with fondness. “Have you had too much of your dad’s punch?”   
  
“Fuck you,” Sean bites back, eyes shining.    
  
Antonio leans in closer, his tongue running over his lips. “Maybe I will, Gelael,”    
  
Sean feels his cheeks burn as he stares into Antonio’s dark eyes, as the Italian’s tongue swipes over his lip, slowly holding his gaze. They both lean forward subconsciously, never breaking eye contact. Antonio’s eyelashes are so beautiful, he thinks. They’re long and dark, the tiny freckles painting over his pale skin. Sean can feel his heart slamming against his ribs as his gaze falls down to Antonio’s slick lips. He’s about to capture them when his father’s voice cuts across the silence, through their hurried breaths.    
  
“Your drink, Antho,” Sean’s father says with little expression, a small smile on his lips at the Italian’s pink cheeks, they match his sons perfectly.    
  


* * *

  
  
“Can you help me with dinner?” Sean’s mother’s voice cuts through the film they’re watching later that evening. They’re curled up together on the couch, Sean’s legs wrapped around Antonio, the Italian resting against the taller man’s chest. Sean moves to get up and distangle from Antonio but Sean’s mother shakes her head.    
  
“I want Antonio to help me, I am making pasta after all,” She states, watching as the Italian raises an eyebrow but wordlessly moves away from Sean, giving his hand a quick squeeze before following the older woman to the kitchen. They begin making the pasta in silence, the only sound is that of the bubbling pans on the hob. Antonio wordlessly feeds the thin sheet through the pasta machine, careful to make sure that it’s perfect.    
  
“So tell me, when did you and Sean start dating?” Sean’s mother asks, breaking the silence.    
  
Antonio freezes, hands still on the pasta sheet as he thinks back, wonders if Sean has already told her a date, if she’s trying to catch him out, if she knows.    
  
“Ummm...a couple of months ago. We realised that we were never going to be just friends-” He licks his dry lips. “I wanted to be with him for so long, I didn’t even know I was in love with him the entire time-”   
  
“Except you’re not with him, are you?” Sean’s mother says softly.    
  
Antonio feels his face go pale. “What? I-”   
  
“It’s okay, Antho,” Sean’s mother continues, her dark eyes - so much like Sean’s - boring into his green ones. “I know that you and Sean aren’t dating,”   
  
“What? How did you know?” Antonio says, cheeks burning.    
  
“Your dates don’t add up, for a start,” She says, smiling. “I just wanted the truth from you, that’s all,”   
  
“I- I’m sorry,” Antonio finds himself saying, blush dancing over his cheeks as he glances at the older woman. “I...I...we never wanted to lie about it, Sean just didn’t want you to be upset-”   
  
“Why did you have to lie about it?”   
  
“He was dating someone a few months ago...but like he never seemed to be proud to be with her...he never seemed to mention her,” Antonio says, hands still on the pasta sheet. “He didn’t want to upset you, he didn’t want you to think he was lonely. He asked me and I...I don’t know why I said yes,”   
  
“I think you do, Antho,” Sean’s mother says quietly. “You’ve always been close to one another, are you sure that you didn’t say yes for another reason? Maybe you wanted to pretend that you were together-”   
  
Antonio doesn’t say anything, his teeth worrying at his lip. “I-” He stops. “I...don’t - h-he doesn’t feel the same way about me though, he never has,”   
  
“Antho, you don’t know that for certain,”   
  
Antonio shakes his head. “He’s straight. He had a girlfriend, he’s not...he’s not like me - he doesn’t like me in that way, he just sees me as a friend, that’s all,” He knows he’s rambling, he knows that his skin is flushed and his eyes are wide. “I- I- love him, but he will never love me the same way,” his lips purse as Sean’s mother cups his cheek.   
  
Her eyes bore into his own - her eyes that are so much like Sean’s, like the man he loves. “I have never seen my son look at anyone else like he does you, Antonio,”   
  
“No, that’s not true-”   
  
“But it is, Antho,” The brown eyes remain on his own. “He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’re the only person that matters. I watched him fall in love with you, talk of you over dinner and I  _ knew _ . Call it mother’s intuition,”   
  
“No, no,” Antonio says, shaking his head, panic building over his chest. “No, he can’t be. I’m just - I’m just his best friend, he couldn’t love him that way-” The pasta falls to the counter, his breathes twisting out into the air as he turns away, turns to run from the kitchen, run away from the truth only to slam into a warm chest. He glances up into warm brown eyes. Sean looks down on him with tenderness. Antonio can’t look back into those eyes. Sean doesn’t have to say anything, he doesn’t  _ need  _ to - Antonio knows, knows that what Sean’s mother said was true. Sean’s  _ in love _ with him.    
  
He can’t breathe, he pushes past Sean, fighting to pull the air into his lungs. He can hear Sean softly calling out his name as he stumbles through the house, out of the front door with tears falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s crying - Sean is in love with him, Sean returns his feelings - but he can’t think straight. He knows where he’s going, the place he always went when he was upset, when his father told him that he couldn’t go go-karting for the first time, his bare feet slipping over the grass towards the bottom of Sean’s garden.    
  
It looks the same as it always did - the yellow paint is peeling away from the wooden boards, the rope ladder swinging precariously in the breeze. But none of that matters to Antonio in that moment - as he finds himself climbing the ladder and sinking into the treehouse. Some of the things he remembers are missing, presumably taken away by Sean’s mother when he grew too old for the treehouse. The ripped old poster of Michael Schumacher still hangs up in the treehouse where they’d stuck it all those years ago. Antonio slumps onto the old dusty beanbag, takes in the old toy cars still sitting on the floorboards, the old action figures, the dartboard they’d put up as teenagers. It looks the same as it did back then, but Antonio is not the same person. He’s grown taller, his hair is a little shorter, he has stubble on his chin, he’s driving a fast car around for a living. He was in love with Sean even then, felt himself staring at the younger boy, felt his cheeks colour when Sean’s hands lingered on him, when Sean talked of girls he fancied in their class. The tears still cling to his cheeks. All this time, Sean had felt the same way about him. All this time, Sean had wanted Antonio in the same way that he’d craved the Indonesian.    
  
“Tonio?” A small, familiar voice cuts through his sobs. “Tonio?”   
  
Antonio looks up tentatively - fear evident in his green eyes. Sean leans before him, looking worried and concerned, he’s still dressed in his pyjamas, his hair lightly mussed. “Tonio,”   
  
“You shouldn’t be here,” Antonio says, feeling the tears slip down his cheeks. “Not now you know everything, now you know that I never thought it was a lie,”   
  
“Tonio,” Sean whispers, his hand slowly moving to cup the Italian’s cheek, swiping away the tear. “You’re upset, why would I be anywhere else?”   
  
“But I-” Antonio mutters, trying to pull away. He doesn’t deserve Sean, he doesn’t deserve the fondness in the dark brown eyes. “Sean, you shouldn’t-”   
  
“Everything my mother said is true,” Sean says quietly. “I love you, I think I always have.” He pauses for a breath. “I think I probably fell in love with you in this very treehouse,”   
  
“Sean-” Antonio says, feeling his cheeks colour red. “Don’t-”   
  
“It’s true,” Sean says, eyes locked on the Italian. “I think that’s why I asked you to date me, I wanted to pretend that it was real, that we were in love. I was selfish, Tonio, I just wanted - I- wanted you, wanted to be with you,”   
  
Antonio stiffens at Sean’s words. “No, no, you don’t love me, Sean. You can’t love me,”   
  
“Why not?” Sean challenges, his thumb swiping away the tears. “You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re sensitive. You’re all these things and you can’t even see them,” Sean feels the smile curve on his lips. “I love you,”   
  
“I-” Antonio says, biting down on his lip. “Sean, I-”   
  
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sean whispers. Antonio glances around at the treehouse, at the peeling posters, at the old toys before his gaze fixes back on Sean’s warm brown ones. He could laugh, laugh at them fully grown and matured sitting in an old treehouse. Sean’s hand finds his own, slots together and Antonio marvels at the difference in their skin tone. Sean’s thumb strokes over his fingers for a moment as they hold each other’s gaze.    
  
Antonio decides to take the leap of faith, his heart hammering against his chest as he leans in and captures Sean’s lips. It doesn’t feel like the other times that they’ve kissed, it feels different he thinks as their lips fold against each other, as Sean whines against him. He feels Sean’s breath draw against the curve of his lips and his hand curve over his jawline. It feels right, it feels right to kiss Sean, to push his hands into the dark curls, to feel Sean’s smile ghost over his own. They’ve kissed before - hell, Sean was Antonio’s first kiss - but it never felt like this, like his chest was going to burst. He feels the warmth seep over his bones, feels the smile drift over his lips as Sean gently pulls away for breath, his pupils blown wide.    
  
“Tonio-” He whispers, his eyes locked on the Italian.    
  
“I love you,” Antonio whispers quietly, the words barely audible in the air.    
  
Sean smiles, squeezing Antonio’s hand, his hand still on his cheek. “So do you want to date me for real?”   
  
“I’ll have to think about it,” Antonio jokes quietly as Sean surges forward, pressing Antonio to the floor, his lips dancing over his neck, drawing out giggles from the Italian. “Sean! S-stop it!” He giggles out, smile spreading over his face.    
  
“Only if you say yes,” Sean whispers against his neck.    
  
Antonio smiles at the lips against his neck before he answers Sean’s question with a slow, soft kiss. It seems to last forever, the two men wrapped up in each other on the dusty floorboards of Sean’s old treehouse.    
  
“I’ll always say yes,” Antonio whispers against Sean’s lips, kissing at the smile on the Indonesian’s mouth.    
  
“I’m glad,” Sean grounds out from between swollen lips, his hands curving over Sean’s waist.   
  
And he is. 

**Author's Note:**

> buah hatiku - fruit of my heart in Indonesian


End file.
